I don't own The Selection.

OKAYYYY there is yet another TW, so here it is:

TW: death threat, death + funeral

reviews:

Virtue01:

Thanks for the update I glad not so emotional with this chapter. Astra and Maxon relation is so good. I enjoyed reading this chapter I so pleased that Maxon overcame his father shadow. Great chapter with compassion and humour stay safe.

livewithbooks:

so glad you enjoyed! thank you so much for the review!

Lady Annabeth of Illea:

Awwwwww! All the kisses gave me butterflies...they are just so cute! And I'm so glad u gave us another scene with Ozzy! And I adore Wilma so far! Anyways... Have a splendid day!

livewithbooks:

so glad you liked it! i'm also glad you liked wilma! thank you

Virtue01:

Thank you for the update I thought that Daphne was so out of order, that woman is still jealous of America, I do not mind if you can not write politics. I do not mind a bit of it but, I am enjoying the upbeat and happier way you are doing the story. I also love all things Maxerica and the whole family dynamics they have. You do an excellent job in writng and I am enjoying the chapters. stay safe

livewithbooks:

you're welcome! i do not like daphne much if you can't tell lol- i'm really glad your enjoying. stay safe too!

aha, i'm back! i know i typically post on mondays and stuff, but this week is really kicking my butt. our english teacher hates us i think, and i haven't had the time to really write, so i do apologize! hope everyone enjoys, and remember, any and all reviews are welcome.

Sunlight filtered through our bedroom windows, waking me up naturally. That didn't happen often.

Usually, I was woken by either an alarm, a maid, or something along those lines. But today, America and I didn't have a meeting until three in the afternoon. That gave us time to spend with the twins, and now, the two dogs. I was still amazed that we'd actually made such a good choice with Wilma. She was gentle, friendly, and calm.

America tightened her hold on me.

She was lying in front of me, her arms wrapped around my neck, and her eyes closed. From her even breathing, I decided she was still sound asleep. I kissed her lips lightly and they parted. Pulling back, I took a minute to study her.

I swear she was an angel. Her hair was messy, and her skin basically glowed. She shifted slightly, putting her at such an angle so that the sunlight hit her blue eyes when she opened them. If I'd been standing, it would've been enough to bring me to my knees. I truly believed she was the only person with the ability to be absolutely stunning in the morning.

"Hey," she said, her voice sleepy. "How long have you been awake?"

"A few minutes,"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're impossibly beautiful in the morning."

"You're lying. I look like a rat when I wake up, Max."

"A beautiful rat."

She laughed and laid her head on my chest, wrapping an arm around my waist. I kissed her head. Closing my eyes, I basked in the sound of her laughter. It was the most beautiful of music.

There was a comfortable moment of silence in which we simply grinned at each other. Something about it made me fall in love with her all over.

And there was a knock on our door.

"Of course," she muttered. "Always ruining the moment."

"I'll get it," I said, sitting up.

Once I'd pulled on a shirt and decent pants, I padded barefoot over to the door. Behind it stood none other than Stavros. I went ahead and shut the door behind me, stepping out into the hallway. He handed me an envelope.

"What's this?" I asked.

He smiled sadly. "It's another threat, sir."

"For the twins?"

"For your wife, sir."

Oh. "Is it bad?"

"It's rather graphic, sir." He said. "All we know about it is that it's from someone named Graysen Waters, who we're guessing is a part of the Southern Rebels."

I nodded and opened the letter carefully.

To His Majesty,

I would just like to tell you how wonderful your wife is, sir. Though, I can't help but wonder what her scream sounds like. I'm guessing it's rather pleasant. You'd tell me right?

I wanted to vomit. The idea of going further brought me both physical and mental torment.

I can only imagine watching the light leave her eyes as I tilt the knife upwards, puncturing each organ until I reach her heart. Then, she'll slowly bleed out, the pain paralyzing her. Maybe I'll get to hear her scream in the meantime!

Maybe I was strong, but I wasn't this strong.

"Uhm," I said. "It gets worse?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

After he'd left, I stood in the hallway for another couple of minutes, staring down at the words. My stomach turned at the thought of losing America forever. And ignoring my state of undress, I went down to Carter and Aspen's office, where I found them talking. They looked up immediately.

"Are you drunk?" Carter asked. "I have never seen your feet before."

"I'm not drunk. Why do you—nevermind. Have you read this?" I asked, holding up the letter for them to see.

Aspen frowned. "No, we've never seen that before. What is it?"

"Read it."

Carter shrugged and opened the envelope, unfolding it for them both to read. As they read it, they both paled an extreme amount. I sat down and watched as Carter set it back down, rubbing his face. He handed it back to me.

"Damn." He said. "Have you shown it to Ames?"

"No," I said, and they both raised an eyebrow. "Stavros gave it to me a few minutes ago. I haven't had the time."

"So you came down here?" Aspen asked.

"You tell her someone wants to very violently murder her, Aspen."

He shrugged. "You have a point."

"So," Carter frowned. "Avery and America are both targets?"

"And Roman is most likely a target too."

They were trying to get to me.

I don't know why it hadn't hit me earlier, but it had now. Hell, they were trying to kill everyone I loved so that I'd fall apart. What a screwed up game to play.

"You okay?" Aspen asked.

"No," I shrugged, pulling the other letter from my pocket. "Okay, look."

"I'm missing the point, Maxon." Carter said.

Aspen nodded. "Unless it's that you're barefoot, wearing sweatpants, and look like you just woke up—"

"I'm the only person that isn't a target! In the first letter, it specifically says in reference to me, see how quickly he breaks. They don't necessarily want to hurt my family, they want to hurt me, yet not physically. Like breaking me emotionally, not allowing me from doing my job properly, which would send the country to hell—"

"And it would let the rebels take over." Aspen said, finishing my sentence for me. "I didn't know you were a genius."

"But America could take over." Carter stated.

I shook my head. "They'll figure out how to break both of us. And I'm pretty sure they're close with trying to kill Roman and Avery. Damnit!"

"What?"

"They will literally kill anyone to get to my damn title. Family, friends, staff."

"You can't blame yourself—" Aspen said.

"Actually, it is my fault, Aspen. If I had just married Daphne—"

"What?" Carter gaped. "You—Daphne—hold on—"

"Quick explanation," I said. "Right before the Selection, she told me she loved me and wanted to be in my selection so we could marry. I told her no, that I didn't want to marry her, and she's basically hated me for that ever since. Now, moving on, you do know you're all in danger because of me? Every moment you spend with me is another reason for them to kill you?"

"We aren't going to leave, Max. You're our best friend—" Aspen said, crossing his arms.

I laughed. "Everyone that has ever gotten close to me has died."

I left the room, taking both letters with me. The ground was cold. Very quickly was I regretting my decision of going barefoot. But I kept moving. Hell, even I didn't know where I was going. Maids and other staff members gave me weird looks, but quickly dropped into curtsies and bows. Truthfully, I wanted to go somewhere where I wasn't king. I wanted to be normal. It was a stupid desire. I'd always be King Maxon.

Continuing down the halls, I ended up back in the gardens.

I needed to think. To calm down. To cry, maybe. Honestly, I didn't know what I needed at this point but it definitely wasn't to be judged for walking around my own home in what I wanted and was comfortable wearing. At this point, I was close enough to some kind of breakdown to know when to get out.

After venturing to the furthest side of the gardens—which was also the most hidden and peaceful parts—I sat down against the beautiful brick fence and stretched my legs out in front of me. I laughed at the sight of my own toes. No wonder everyone had thought I was insane. I truly was.

I took a moment to take in nature's beauty.

Around me sat dozens and dozens of different flowers, most being vibrant, bright colors. There were small trees, bushes, and other shrubbery. It was obvious that the gardens were groomed and groomed to perfection. Not one leaf was out of place here.

And the day was truly magnificent. It was sunny—but not too warm. The sky was a clear blue. No clouds were anywhere in sight.

So many different shades of colors surrounded me that it took me an extra minute to appreciate them. The gardens had always been my safe place, so to speak, and with America, they were my favorite place in the entire palace. The mixture of quiet, peace, solidarity, and beauty made it what it was. Amazing.

I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I pulled my legs to my chest, but not so close that I was uncomfortable. Actually, I was quite comfortable.

I went over everything that had happened today.

America had received a death threat. And she'd gotten one because she was important to me. I wanted to kick myself for putting her and everyone else in danger. If I had just gone ahead and married Kriss, she'd have been much safer than she was now.

Everyone was in danger because of me. It was always because of me. No one close to me stood a chance.

And as badly as I wanted to see America right now, I wouldn't be able to face her. Letting her see that letter would be harder than most things. And to read the rest would be a whole new feat.

"Maxon?" Magda asked quietly, and I looked at her. "Everyone's looking for you."

"They shouldn't bother," I sighed. "I can't really get lost. I've lived here forever."

"Can I?" She asked, gesturing to the spot next to me.

I nodded.

She sat down next to me, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her hair was now beginning to have white streaks in it—a visible sign of aging. And her pale skin reminded me a lot of America's. It was obvious they were related. Especially when it came to their eyes and face shapes. Both had ocean blue eyes, and a defined—but not too defined—jawline.

"It's beautiful out here. Do you come out here a lot?"

"Almost everyday." I confirmed, crossing my legs. "I used to come out and hide from the staff when I was a kid. They hated me for it, but it was worth it."

She smiled. "America told me you met out here."

"We did. She was yelling and screaming at the guards, trying to get out and I happened to walk by. At the time, the garden was completely off limits to the girls. But I let her go, and she started crying. And then she kneed me. It was an interesting night."

"She kneed you?"

"Ah, I deserved it. I said something that made her feel uncomfortable and she'd thought I'd try to take advantage of her. It was rather insulting, but I'm glad she did it."

"You're glad?" She asked. "I know my daughter's a fighter. That must've stung."

I laughed. "Yes, it stung, but she had the ability to stand up to me. She put me in my place several times when I needed it. She still does."

I couldn't help but grin at the memory of that night. I'd met the love of my life then and hadn't even known it.

"So," she said. "Why are you out here?"

"Not going to mention my feet?" I joked, wiggling my toes.

"I have a feeling you didn't plan on coming out here."

"Right again." I said. "Well, Stavros came by our bedroom with a letter—another threat, actually. But it's not for the twins. It's for America. And I've come to the realization that they aren't the actual targets. I'm the target. They want me to be so distraught that I let the country weaken, giving them the opportunity to take over. But to do it, they'll hurt or kill anyone that means anything to me. That includes my friends, family, staff, and citizens. So basically, if you want to live, don't ever be near me."

She looked at me. "You blame yourself."

"Of course I do." I said, leaning my head back against the fence. "You're in this because I married America. All of you are. I could've just married Kriss and you'd be safe."

She shook her head as if I was completely missing something.

After a minute, she took my hand in hers and forced me to look her in the eyes. Strange, maybe, but there was a familiar comfort by the action. It was almost motherly.

"Maxon, you've done so much for all of us," she said. "In so many ways, you've saved us. We're not storing food so we won't starve in the winter anymore. We aren't taking every job offer we get to buy that food anymore. Astra and Gerad have a chance at a good life, and May is getting the wedding she's always dreamed of. And America, wow. America is the happiest I've ever seen her, son."

I had to fight the lump in my throat.

She'd called me son. I hadn't been someone's son in years. She must've sensed my distress, because she pulled me into the most maternal hug. Unwillingly, I let the tears fall, but immediately wiped them away.

"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my face. "I'm a mess. Hell, I'm barefoot in a garden."

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Maxon."

"No, no. You didn't. It's—It's just been a while since I've had someone I consider a mother around. I forgot how badly I missed it."

She looked deeply touched.

Considering I'd admitted she was like a mother to me, I think it was an appropriate response. But not wanting to make this too awkward or uncomfortable, I stretched my legs out again and frowned at the sight of my own feet. I had actually come down here barefoot and in my pajamas. What a morning it had been.

I took another look at Magda.

She was wearing a light blue shirt under loose, gray-ish overalls. Her shoes were combat boots, and her hair was in a rather messy bun. I saw the resemblance between her and America immediately.

"Again, I'm sorry. That was a bit much," I laughed. "I need to work on not speaking so bluntly."

"I'm so sorry about your parents, Maxon." She finally said, looking back towards the garden.

I smiled sadly.

"I don't know if it means much, but my mother would have loved you."

I'd gone back to the bedroom and showed America the letter after Magda and I had parted way. Of course, she'd been more than surprised, and had admitted that the threat itself scared her a little. I understood how she felt. It scared me too. The thought of even losing America was too much for me to handle and always would be.

So now, we were going to spend the next couple hours of our day with the twins and the dogs.

We sat on the floor, laying on pillows and blankets. Avery wiggled in my arms, as Roman slept in America's arms. They were getting so much bigger now. Both had gained a healthy amount of weight and were now sporting little tiny rolls of fat. I personally found them adorable.

Bending down, I kissed Avery's face repeatedly and grinned when she wiggled around, squirming in my arms. Her tiny, woven yellow blanket was loose around her body, and I made sure to tighten it so that she wasn't cold.

Not to mention their hair was beginning to really become visible. Avery's gorgeously red hair was ever so slightly lighter than America's, and I'm guessing that happened because my hair was blonde. Roman's hair was the exact same shade as mine and now stuck up in small tufts. But his eyes were definitely going to be blue, and Avery's were going to be the same brown mine were, according to Dr. Ashlar. What I loved most was that both twins still resembled America in some way.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I watched Avery hold my finger. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my face to her and placed my nose against hers.

She was so perfect, yet I'd only known her for two months. It felt like I'd known her my entire life and longer. With a gurgle and another squirm, she grabbed at my hair and face. I kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"I'm going to put Rome in his bassinet," America announced, standing carefully. "C'mon bud."

Once he was secure in the bassinet, she sat back down beside me and let Wilma into her lap. Ozzy seemed content with just laying in front of Avery and I.

America leaned her head on my shoulder. "Hey, baby girl, this is Mommy. Daddy and I love you so much, honey."

"She's already got us wrapped around her fingers." I said, kissing America's head.

"Just wait till she's old enough to talk. We'll have to learn to resist her charm."

"She obviously got it from you, love."

America snorted. "Yeah, right. Her father is the charmer, isn't he, honey?"

Avery grinned.

"How am I a charmer?"

"Well," America said. "You're incredibly handsome, respected, and have a wonderful way with words."

I kissed her gently, taking my precious time. Her lips were softer than normal and very, very warm. I groaned, the feeling of her lips on mine making me feel almost feverish—and we broke apart, laughing. She buried her head in the crook of my neck, her body vibrating with laughter.

"Like that, Your Royal Husbandness?"

"Very much so,"

"I'll have to thank Mary for making me use her magic concoction."

"What?"

"Lip balm." She clarified. "Works well, doesn't it?"

"Very, very well."

Two days later, we sat around my desk as a family and ate lunch together. Kenna had stolen my chair, and Astra sat in her lap, eating a cookie that she'd gotten earlier today. James and I sat beside each other in the chairs in front of my desk, next to Magda and America.

Unfortunately, Brice had to leave earlier this week so she wouldn't fall too far behind in school, meaning she wasn't here. I'd gotten used to her presence.

I'd spent the morning in and out of meetings, some with America and some without her. It truly depended on what she wanted to attend. America had mainly been working on the education system, since it was at the top of our to-do list.

"No, Astra, you cannot have another cookie." Kenna said firmly, taking the cookie out of Astra's hand. "You've had three, honey."

"Mommyyyy! Just one more," she begged, using her puppy-eyes.

James stepped in. "Nope. No more cookies, star."

"Fine." She said, crossing her arms. "Mackin?"

"No way." I said, grinning.

Astra huffed and decided on eating the mashed potatoes on her plate, but did it with an attitude, dramatically shoving the spoon into the mushy mess. Kenna rolled her eyes and continued eating her own meal. Personally, I thought Astra's little guilt game was a rather intelligent move for a four year old to make.

James looked over at me. "Just wait till the twins are toddlers. Greedy little things."

"I can't wait," I said jokingly. "I need to start working on saying no to them."

"Definitely."

"So, she'll be five in a few months?"

"Yep. She wants a sibling as her present."

I gave him a sympathetic smile. He shrugged, stuffing more food into his mouth. From the smile on his face, I took this as a sign that maybe, just maybe, that present wasn't too far out of question.

Quickly, I looked around. No one was paying attention to us. They were in their own worlds.

"Is Kenna pregnant?"

"Well, no, not yet. She's taking fertility pills. We've decided that it's a pretty good time to add another member to the family."

"Wow," I said. "That's amazing. Astra will be over the moon, James!"

"I know," he beamed. "I'm just hoping Ken will be pregnant by her birthday so we can tell her."

"I'm sure it'll work out. But, promise me you'll tell me if it's successful?"

"You'll be the first person I'll tell, little brother." He grinned, and I couldn't hold back a smile when he'd called me little brother. It was at times like this when I wished I'd grown up with siblings.

"Thanks."

"Anytime. But I expect to be told as soon you and Ames decide to have another little one."

"Oh, you will be."

After James and I's little chat ended, everyone parted ways to go back to whatever we'd been doing before. America and I were stopped in the hallway by Stavros, who wore a grim expression. He led us into America's office, which was closest, and handed me a crested folder.

I frowned. "What's this about?"

"There was an attack in Belcourt, sir."

Belcourt. My aunt was there with her family on vacation right now. Hopefully she was okay. I'd have to call her later to check in on her. Maybe I'd call Brice too, if she wasn't at school right now.

"Any deaths?" America asked.

"Yes, ma'am. There were fifteen deaths, eight of them being.. royal."

Royal. I looked up. There really weren't that many royals in Illéa anymore, meaning only one thing—Immediately, I shook my head. No, Adele couldn't have died. She'd promised me that she'd never leave me..

"Uhm, who died?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Adele Station, her husband, and their six children, sir."

I stared at him in disbelief, and he avoided my gaze. My thoughts were racing and entirely disorganized. That didn't happen very often. All I could think about was my aunt, who'd been there for every important part of my life. She'd been there when the twins were born, when I got married, my birthdays.

Fighting a now car-sized lump in my throat, I braced my head in my hands, elbows on the desk in front of me.

"Max?" America asked, and turned away from me. "Stavros, you're free to go."

As soon as the door had shut, I let the tears run freely down my face. America pushed herself into my lap and I ended up crying into her neck. She kissed my head and ran comforting fingers through my hair, even rubbing my back to help soothe me.

Adele had been the person to help me smuggle goats into the palace. She'd given me lessons on how to flirt and get a girlfriend, which at the time had made me blush furiously. I remembered that day clearly. I'd been so embarrassed, and at one point, I'd actually tried to get security to remove her. We'd both laughed it off later, with a bowl of ice cream.

"Hey, deep breaths," America urged. "It's going to be alright, okay? Let it out, my darling."

I began to run out tears and the soreness of my throat was suddenly very obvious. The door opened, and I ducked my head. Right now, I probably looked like I'd gotten beat up.

"Maxon, we heard about your aunt," Marlee said, and I guessed Carter was with her. No way in hell was I looking up. "I'm so sorry."

All I did was nod, and discreetly tightened my hold on America. Usually, she would've tried to move out of my lap, but I guessed she knew how badly I needed her right now. She always kept me grounded, especially if it was just a bad day in general.

"We'll go now," she said, and America waved to them.

Once again, the door shut and I moved to look America in the eyes. She gently rubbed the nape of my neck, just where my hairline started, and nestled her head into my neck.

Silence was the best thing she could've given me.

We were too entranced in our own thoughts to speak, and I'm not sure talking would have even helped. For me, this wasn't a matter that could be fixed by communication. I needed to grieve, just like I had for my parents four years ago. It would be a while, but I knew I'd be okay. The scariest part was that the rebels had carried through with my theory.

"I need to call Brice," I suddenly said. "Make sure she's okay."

America didn't stop me. Instead, she handed me her desk phone.

Brice picked up in a few seconds, but it wasn't her voice that greeted me. It was the voice of an older woman.

"Brice Mannor, who on Earth is this?" She asked, and I was already impatient.

"Could I speak to Brice?" I asked. "It's urgent."

"Your Majesty," she stammered, and the room broke out into gasps. I needed to apologize to Brice for this. "Uh, sure, sir."

"What's up?" Brice said. "And why are you calling me? I'm in class."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I needed to make sure you're okay. Uhm, I'll let you go. Have a good day?"

"Wait a second," she said. "What's wrong, Max? Are the twins okay?"

"Avery and Roman are fine, but—they.. they killed my aunt, Brice. She was in Belcourt. A bombing. I—I was worried about you."

"Oh."

"So, uhm, have a good day? And if anyone asks, I was asking you about something to do with your mother."

"Not really."

"Well, I love you, Brice."

"Yeah, me too."

And I hung up, handing the phone back to America.

The next week at the palace was miserable.

In the days leading up to Adele's funeral, everyone had been walking on eggshells around me. Except America. She treated me normally, but always made sure to kiss me goodbye before we parted ways. It was a depressing tradition, really.

And today happened to be the day.

Justin insisted he should help me get dressed, though I was fully capable of dressing myself. I hadn't even protested, which had made his happy personality drown a little bit. I always protested against his help, even if I needed it. My pride sometimes got in the way of everything.

My suit was entirely black, as were my shoes and everything else I wore. No medals or crown today, as requested. This was just a funeral for my now deceased aunt and her family, right?

I met America downstairs.

She wore a sleek, modern black gown that hugged her form beautifully. As a greeting, I kissed her cheek and laced our fingers together. I was thankful that the twins wouldn't be coming. Even if they wouldn't remember it, I didn't want them to have to go to a funeral. Not when they were almost three months old; it was too soon.

I was silent during the car ride there, which only took a few minutes. The next thing that happened was we were led over to the cemetery, where my aunt's casket laid.

America squeezed my hand.

Glancing over at my parents graves, which I hadn't seen in years, I saw that both had flowers laid out on them. My mother's were much more beautiful, just like her. The sight alone made the tears fall from my eyes.

My entire family laid in this graveyard, almost all of them six foot under. And someday, I'd be with them. It made me realize just how precious life really was.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to celebrate the life of Lady Adele Station—sister of the great Queen Amberly, and aunt to our King Maxon."

I stopped listening. It didn't interest me. No one had known her like I had, or even close.

The eulogy I gave was short. There was no need to drag it out. We all knew why we were here, who she'd been to me, and everything like that. Besides, I wanted some aspects of my life to stay entirely private, even if that meant my own friends didn't know. America gave my hand another squeeze and leaned on my shoulder as I silently cried, head down. By the end of the service, I was numb to the dozen emotions I had felt.

Not giving a damn about the people slowly dispersing, I sat down by her freshly filled grave and fidgeted with a piece of grass.

This was about finding closure, right? That's what I was doing.

I had a silent conversation with her.

I miss you, Adele. You were easily the best aunt in the entire world, you know? I don't think many aunts help their nephews smuggle goats into their homes. It's got to come with a certain honor.

Remember how we used to go get ice cream from the kitchen at night? I was always able to sway you by mentioning that we had strawberry. And we'd spend the entire night in the kitchen, being careful not to wake my parents. I remember that one time when Mom caught us! She joined in!

This is stupid, isn't it? You're dead, and I'm a grown man talking to a corpse. In my head. You should really come laugh at me.

Please?

I won't get mad. Just come laugh at me.

My body trembled as sobs overtook me again, but I kept them silent. The tears came so quickly that it was impossible to see. An arm wrapped itself around me, but it wasn't America's. I would've known if it was her.

It was Marlee.

She sat beside me and took my hand. There was nothing remotely sexual about it. Or romantic. It was just one of my best friends comforting me.

"I won't pretend I know how you feel, but I'll tell you that it gets better," she said. "It seems impossible now, but it gets better. It really does. I lost my aunt when I was ten. She was my best friend. And I know she was so much more than that to you, but Adele's always with you. Even if she isn't physically, she always is mentally. Sure, you'll forget the small things, but that's okay. Her spirit is never leaving, Maxon."

"She was my only family, Marlee," I choked. "I've got no one now. No one to make jokes about my stupid, stupid childhood. Or about how I snuck goats into the palace because they were sad. Absolutely no one."

She just leaned against my shoulder, pulling me into a hug.

"You're right." Marlee nodded. "You're right, Maxon. But you know what? You've got an entirely new family. You have me, Carter, Aspen, Lucy, America, Magda, May, Brice, Ryder, Gerad, James, Astra, Kenna, Avery, Roman. You have so many people. We're all your family now, got it? Family means forever. We're going to mourn, and then, we're going to go out and make new memories, got it? I don't care if we have to drag you. No one gets left behind in this family."

Again, she hugged me, and we sat there, on the dirty ground, most likely being watched by everyone.

I couldn't bring myself to care.